


work to do

by badritual



Series: Supernatural Codas [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Don't upload to another site, Gen, Jossed, Not Beta Read, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: Dean’s not sure how long he sits there, crowded up against the cold, unforgiving stucco wall.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester (implied) - Relationship, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural Codas [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/850104
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	work to do

**Author's Note:**

> this is hastily written and not beta'd. oop.
> 
> i don't know if that wall is actually stucco. 
> 
> **ETA:** i guess i can say this got jossed now, lmao.

Dean’s not sure how long he sits there, crowded up against the cold, unforgiving stucco wall. All he knows is when he’s finally able to move again, to push himself to his feet, his joints creak and ache, and he feels like he’s a hundred years old. Feels like every last bit of his soul’s been twisted and squeezed out of him and all that’s left is an empty, broken shell. 

He’s grappling in the fridge for a beer, half-blind and desperate, when the doors bang open and footsteps start rattling the stairs. 

“Dean? Dean!” Sam strides into the kitchen, Jack at his heels. “Where’s Cas?”

Sam is wide-eyed, hair a wild nest, and when he reaches up to sweep it away from his face his hand trembles. He curls his hand into a fist and shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans. 

Dean grabs a beer and slams the fridge door shut. He tries to twist the cap off but the edges bite into the fleshy part of his palm. 

“Dean,” Sam tries again, “where’s Cas? Are you—” Sam stops himself, pulls up short. “What happened?”

Dean slams the beer down on the table and digs around in a drawer for a bottle opener. “He’s gone.”

“Tell me,” Sam insists, gentling his tone. 

Dean feels him move closer, until a hand comes to rest lightly on his shoulder. Over the handprint in blood on his shirt. He can’t bring himself to look up, to meet Sam’s gaze. 

“He…he made a deal,” Dean manages before his throat closes off. Before stubborn tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he scrubs at his face with his sleeve. 

Sam drops his hand away. “We’ll get him back,” he says, matter-of-fact. Like he believes that they can do it. Like they can just waltz into the Empty and pluck Cas out. 

“He’s gone,” Dean chokes out. The urge to blame himself— _he’s gone because of me_ —dances on the tip of his tongue, but he bites back the self-recrimination. 

He doesn’t even know if he believes that anymore. That Cas was cursed the second he laid a hand on Dean in Hell. 

He remembers the smile on Cas’s face. How it felt like standing in the sunshine. Even as Cas was being torn away from him, taken to a place Dean couldn’t follow, he still felt the warmth of Cas’s—

Dean rubs his hands over his face. 

“We’ll get him back,” Sam insists. “We just need to hash out a plan.”

Dean sucks back a shaky breath and drops his hands, looks up and finally meets Sam’s concerned gaze. “What about you, Sammy?”

Sam glances away. “They’re all gone,” he mumbles. “Eileen…”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says.

“Me too,” Sam says, quietly. 

They stand there in silence, shoulder to shoulder, letting the loss wash over them. 

When Dean finally can’t take the quiet anymore, he grips Sam by the shoulder. 

“C’mon,” he says, giving him a squeeze. “We’ve got work to do.”


End file.
